Regrets
by NatBBfan
Summary: Trying to cope with grief after Quinn's death, Carrie writes a letter to him in an effort to find some closure. Quarrie. Set right after "America first" (S6, E12). One-shot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Homeland, or any of its characters or plots. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.

Hey Quinn,

Hope this letter finds you well, wherever you are now. I guess that if you would actually have the chance to read it, you'd be saying by now: "Hey, writing to a dead person? Are you okay?"

Well, first of all I'd like you to know that I haven't gone off my meds, so don't panic just yet. The thing is I'm following the final steps in the process of getting Franny back (she's in foster care, I don't recall if I told you that at that house in Queens before everything went crazy). Anyway, the fact is that I've just passed my last psych evaluation with flying colors (at least that's what they said…) and the shrink was kind enough to suggest a few tips to deal with grief, one of them writing a letter to let you know how I feel. He insisted on in as it would bring me some kind of closure, he said.

So here I am. Oh, please don't worry about Franny. Despite the current situation, she's well and happy in her foster home, which makes me think about my role as a mother... Never mind that, you know I tend to ramble sometimes. Bottom line: I thank God every day because apparently this is far from being a traumatic experience for her. You'd be glad to know that she has Hop with her, and that she's got a new stuffed animal, a Pink Panther with big blue eyes, that she immediately named Peter, her CPS case worker told me. Maggie was right that day after dad's funeral: she definitely took a shine to you.

Well, I'd better cut straight to the point, I can almost feel you glaring at me... Uff, let me take a deep breath first. God, this is difficult... I just want you to know that I miss you and I think about you every single day since that awful morning in Manhattan. I can't believe it's been six weeks already since you've been gone...

And I am so fucking sad all the time... I find it hard to come to terms with the fact that after all your Black Ops missions, after all you went through in Islamabad, Syria and Berlin, and much more I don't even know about, you ended up dying driving an official SUV in the streets of New York City, shot by American soldiers. So fucking unbelievable... It just doesn't make any sense at all.

You know, crazy as it might sound all things considered, I don't have many regrets. You'd say now: "Yeah, that sounds like you." I like to think that had I the chance to live my life again, probably I would change very few things. But I do have three big regrets.

First one, not being in Franny's life when she was a baby, running away from her right after she was born, desperately looking for a post in a war zone to selfishly let my father and Maggie take care of her. What was I thinking? Fortunately, she doesn't seem to remember that time and she holds no grudge against me, so I do my best to try and make it up for her since I came back to my senses after dad died, at the very least in that regard.

My second regret is not taking you up to your offer of flying down to Missouri that day you called when I was unexpectedly chasing my mom for an explanation for her absence from our lives all those years. Things would've been so different if we had met that day, Peter... It's no coincidence that I cherish our kiss by your truck the night before as one of my happiest moments in life.

Unlike my first regret, this one's been so life altering that I find it really hard to live with it. I wish I could go back in time. I've wished that since Dar Adal told me you were gone to Syria and there was no way to reach you as you had gone dark over an hour before. Of course I can't know for certain if things would have worked out if we had actually happened, you and I, but I'm well aware that it was me who took the chance away. And you never said a word about it. I guess I'll have to learn to live with it. And, in case you're wondering, I do have the feeling that it would've worked out nicely for us, despite my condition and everything else. You've seen me at my worst, you knew all my shit and I knew yours, we worked so well as a team, even under pressure... Who am I kidding here? I'm positive we would have led a happy normal life together, as partners, and as a family with Franny and one or two more kids. What can I say? I have to confess I often fantasize about it.

Which reminds me that I was tidying up the basement yesterday when I came across a book ("Great expectations", why does that not surprise me?) in one of your drawers and a white worn envelope in it. I didn't want to pry, I swear, but couldn't help looking at the photos. Those of John Jr (I wonder if you'd like me to keep tabs on him, but I know it is a rhetoric question now, I should've asked during all these years) and that last one of me... I didn't know you had that! How come I don't recall giving it to you? Where did you get it? No, don't, don't answer that... I have to admit seeing it brought me to tears. Seeing that envelope, so carefully kept in that novel as your little treasure, encouraged me to finally follow the psych's advice and write to you.

You knew firsthand how I loved Brody. You saw us together, and even witnessed some intimate moments between us (sometimes I don't know what got into me during that time, were you really all listening to the whole thing when we were at the motel that night I was trying to keep his cover?). I once said to him that I believed one of the reasons I was put on this earth was for his and my path to cross. Corny, uh? Well, should I have the chance to see him again, I'd rephrase it. Because I do believe that one of the reasons he was put on earth was for our paths (yours and mine) to cross. I'd always be grateful to him because he brought both Franny and you into my life. I'm sure now that it was the true purpose of him being so briefly in my life.

Speaking of which, I'll always be grateful to you for loving me and taking care of me the way you always did, no matter what. For showing me what true, unconditional love is, always giving me my place and ready to lend me a hand should I ever need it. Remember what you said in that ops room when were were working on the surveillance operation on Brody? "I am reliable." You bet. And so much more than that. Trustworthy, and generous, and a hell of a fighter. And easy on the eyes, too.

Here comes my last regret. Not telling you how much I loved you, and not showing it to you either. Quite the opposite, I'd say. Waking you up from your coma in Berlin, putting your life at risk looking for answers that you might well not even have, well, it's so hard to talk about that… Yeah, I know, I know… I always make it about me instead of you. Because I guess it's easier not to question myself. And it's selfish, too, I'll give you that. But despite all that, I do love you, and I've always cared. I only hope that when I told you it wasn't just the mission, that it never had been, you got the message right. At least it gives me some comfort to think so.

Ah, and in case you were wondering, there's a reason I didn't get up and say a few words at your memorial. This time it wasn't just me. Dar Adal was kind enough to give me your letter when you were still in a coma in Berlin, and you were crystal clear about that in it. "Don't say some dumb speech." I just hope you haven't changed your mind since you wrote it years ago. Not only regarding that part, but the rest of its content, despite of everything that has happened from then on.

Rest in peace, Quinn. You do deserve it. Yours,

Carrie


End file.
